


Two Against One

by Kizzia



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Gen, Kid Sherlock, Poor Mycroft, Teen Mycroft, if you ever wondered where Sherlock learnt his look of utter distain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 06:32:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizzia/pseuds/Kizzia
Summary: Sherlock and Mycroft's relationship hasn't changed much over the years but whereas now Sherlock has John, back then he had ...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AtlinMerrick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/gifts).



> Because there's nothing like writing a bit of childhood sniping to cheer you up when you're full of cold.
> 
> Gifted to Atlin because she gave me a boost to write when I needed it most.

‘What is that?’

Sherlock ignored Mycroft completely. Mycroft was not stupid, unfortunately, and had a fully functioning set of eyes so the question was entirely redundant.

‘Have you lost the power of speech?’

‘No’

‘Then-‘

‘You can see, brother mine.’

Mycroft made a noise that in a less refined person would have been called a growl.

‘Do not try my patience, Sherlock, you know what I meant. What is _that thing_ doing in here?’

 _That thing_ lifted its head from Sherlock’s lap and surveyed Mycroft with a look of such distain that Sherlock made a mental note to learn the human equivalent as soon as possible.

‘Silver’s not a thing.’ Sherlock glared at Mycroft. ‘And she’s was cold in the kitchen, so I brought her up here.’

As if to prove the point, Silver nestled more closely into Sherlock’s chest.

‘I’ll tell Mummy.’

‘She knows.’

Mycroft narrowed his eyes, his mouth tightening into a thin line. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room.

Sherlock watched Mycroft’s retreating back, tightening his arms around Silver, who began purring loudly, claws flexing luxuriously in the weave of Sherlock’s dressing gown.

‘Poor Mycroft,’ Sherlock said, ostensibly to Silver but loudly enough to be heard all the way down the corridor. ‘Bested by an eleven year old and a Burmese.’

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see Silver and the look of distain that prompted this particular ficlet, then you'll find her on the tumblr post of this story [here](http://wherekizzialives.tumblr.com/post/159035597155/two-against-one-a-221b-ficlet)


End file.
